


Unlootable

by dragongoats



Series: Tales of Thedas [11]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, Goats, M/M, Non-Binary Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongoats/pseuds/dragongoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor is upset that they can't loot Avaar goat-horned helms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unlootable

The Inquisitor dragged their feet as they walked—their heavy soled boots making awful scraping, scratching noise against the rocks and earth. They wandered on in silence, mind focused, intent, their face a screwed up scowl. Every few minutes they let out an irritated sigh, followed by an inelegant curse.

From behind them, they became vaguely aware of words being directed towards them, so determined was their bad mood. A light hand on their shoulder brought their attention around—Dorian. His face was gentle, calm, with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Amatus."

His voice was as kind as his expression— not quite a question, simply reassuring. Someone who knew them not quite as well may have asked, "are you well" or probed for the cause of this latest dark mood. That familiarity brought them back slightly, allowing a small smile to improve their temperament.

The Inquisitor responded, muttering under their breath, in a whisper that Dorian barely caught. 

"I want a goat helm."

Dorian blinked and raised an eye brow in surprise.

They had passed many Avaar with such a helm, the horns were impressive, intimidating. Dorian had seen how the Inquisitor had eagerly attempted to loot them without success. For though many enemy had been felled, each time the helm had been deemed too damaged to use. Dorian suspected that this combined with the long forest treks had put the Inquisitor on edge. Dorian found the absurdity of the statement, along with the almost childish demand entirely endearing. It forced a low rumble of a chuckle from his throat— one that threatened to spill into uncontrolled bouts of laughter. 

His dear Inquisitor, in response, attempted to fix their expression with an even deeper frown, though failed utterly. Their bad mood hastily melting in the face of Dorian's exuberance— those smile lines along his eyes and mouth that they loved so dearly. In mock annoyance, they opted to all but roll their eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh before laughing quietly along with him.

Satisfied, Dorian put on the charm, placing a hand along their cheek, a thumb gently stroking along a cheekbone, his head cocked confidently. "We'll get you one of those impressive horned helms, next Avaar we see. It may be a bit charred—" He paused for dramatic effect, flicking his wrist to let a small spark of fire appear that burned nearly as brightly as his smile, before quickly dissipating. "— but we'll get you one, I promise."

The Inquisitor looked at the fire and back at him, their wide grin reaching their eyes, teeth glinting in the daylight.


End file.
